Chapter 1007 - 230

Chapter 1007: Chapter 230

"I need some time to think this through."

Bahram wearily pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Franks had openly raised the banner of his rebellious younger brother precisely to split his ministers, and then, with a thunderous and swift offensive, created an almost irresistible momentum.

Only heaven knew how many people in Tarsus and Baghdad were secretly flirting with the Heretics at this very moment.

If victory were possible, he naturally did not want to flee into exile just like that—but the problem lay precisely in the fact that he could not win.

Seeing Bahram seem somewhat tempted, Governor Ali hurried to remonstrate: "Your Majesty must not; if you truly believe Mustafa’s nonsense, wouldn’t that be tantamount to handing over orthodoxy and righteousness on a silver platter?"

"Saladin at least died for his country, fighting to the last moment, so the Ayyubids are still able to carve out their own domain, because they still possess the righteousness of resisting the Heretics."

"In the Abastar Region there is now only Azerbaijan left, its territory narrow. Once a land that was relatively prosperous by trade, now the flames of war are constant, and commerce has declined—how could it possibly sustain a future counteroffensive?"

The Abastar Region is the Northern great region of the Sassanid Dynasty; at its height it encompassed the Caucasus Region and the Armenia Region, only these lands had been lost many years ago.

Bahram straightened his back: "General Ali, speak honestly—if you face the Franks head-on, how much chance of victory do you have?"

Ali immediately assumed a confident expression: "Your Majesty, the enemy vanguard is only a cavalry force of several thousand. As long as we have the cooperation of the Court Mages, your servant is fully confident of victory. Once we swallow their vanguard, when the Frankish main force arrives we can defend the city and hold firm."

His voice grew somewhat excited: "Your servant does not know how the Franks crossed the vast desert sea and natural barriers to break Rahab, but this must have limited their troop delivery and logistical supply. As long as we drag the fighting into a war of attrition and back-and-forth, sooner or later they will retreat when their grain runs out."

Joy flashed across Bahram’s face; he had just opened his mouth to speak when Mustafa sneered: "General Ali talks big very lightly. The Franks rule by their cavalry; their vanguard of several thousand armored riders has been storming cities and crushing fortresses all the way, unstoppable—their combat strength is obvious. How could they be swallowed so easily?"

Bahram cast an unhappy glance at this Grand Vizier: "Enough, no need to say more. The Franks are indeed ferocious, but if I don’t even dare to fight them once, wouldn’t I be even worse than Saladin? In future, what face would I have to serve as leader of the Zoroastrian World?"

"Let General Ali go and fight the enemy vanguard first."

He sat straighter, then hesitated slightly: "But what the Grand Vizier said also has its reasoning. General Ali, you must remember, when you battle the enemy vanguard, you must not allow too much of the main force to be damaged."

General Ali accepted the order without hesitation.

Mustafa opened his mouth, but in the end said no more.

In truth, anyone with eyes could see Bahram had already been moved by Mustafa’s proposal, only he cherished his reputation too much and clung to unrealistic fantasies about the course of events—what if he won?

To shatter the myth of the Frankish Emperor’s invincibility! To prove himself superior to that dead man Saladin! To Bahram, this was a dream woven of honey, a fantasy he would drown in as soon as he thought of it.

Mustafa smiled in resignation. He had already done his utmost to plan for Bahram, fulfilling the promise he had once made before the late king.

In fact, he had never truly expected Bahram to agree; if Bahram possessed that kind of decisiveness, the country would never have fallen to its present state.

Only now, they had decided to fight yet still wished to hold back, timid and hesitant.

Under such circumstances, could Ali—this "Atabeg" who had never before shown any real talent for commanding armies—really win?

Mustafa’s heart was full of melancholy. Suddenly he heard Bahram above softly calling his name; returning to himself, Mustafa realized that there was no one else left in the great hall.

"Ahem."

Bahram coughed lightly, an apologetic look on his face: "Grand Vizier, do not blame me for embarrassing you just now; it is simply that, if I abandon the city and flee, I would tarnish the name of my ancestors. Only, though I have decided to fight the Franks to the end, as you yourself said, there is a certain disparity between our strength and theirs. Once we are defeated, we must still consider planning a path of retreat."

Mustafa gave a bitter smile and could only assent.

At this point, he no longer had the slightest confidence that Ali could win this battle.

"Since Your Majesty has resolved to fight, then the evacuation must be conducted in secret; otherwise, once the news spreads it will deal a heavy blow to the army’s morale. Therefore Your Majesty must carefully select a trustworthy escort to follow me in handling these matters."

...

At this moment Losa still did not know that, in the Sassan court, even such a rare creature as a pro-escape faction had been frightened into existence by him. He was currently organizing the main army to garrison Rahba Castle.

Massive supply convoys were slowly advancing along the river valley.

To deal with the Sassanids, perhaps there was no need to commit his full main force.

But Losa’s true target was clearly not the Sassan, whose main legions—apart from the Undead Army—had already lost more than half along with half their realm, but that Eastern "World Conqueror" who arguably had more claim to the title than Alexander himself.

He rode Eclipse, gazing far toward the Eastern horizon.

Golden Radiance gathered in his eyes; in just a moment, his

You have initiated an Empire Level campaign.

Campaign objective: seize the Mesopotamian Plain and proclaim the entirety of the Assyrian Empire.

Reward: Hammurabi Code.

Standing upon the Demon Dragon’s head, Losa, crowned with the Emperor’s Crown, let the gale lift the Bone Shell Purple Cloak behind him, revealing the golden Double-headed Eagle upon it.

It was no wonder the Overseas Empire had always borne the title of "Southern Empire," regarded by the Tatars as a separatist regime of a piece with the Eastern Empire.

The Overseas Empire, though it preserved many Frankish customs, leaned far more toward the Eastern Empire in its rites, codes, and administrative system—especially this Double-headed Eagle Banner that represented its African and Asian territories respectively.

At this moment Losa still did not know that, in the Sassan court, even such a rare creature as a pro-escape faction had been frightened into existence by him. He was currently organizing the main army to garrison Rahba Castle.

Massive supply convoys were slowly advancing along the river valley.

To deal with the Sassanids, perhaps there was no need to commit his full main force.

But Losa’s true target was clearly not the Sassan, whose main legions—apart from the Undead Army—had already lost more than half along with half their realm, but that Eastern "World Conqueror" who arguably had more claim to the title than Alexander himself.

He rode Eclipse, gazing far toward the Eastern horizon.

Golden Radiance gathered in his eyes; in just a moment, his

At this moment Losa still did not know that, in the Sassan court, even such a rare creature as a pro-escape faction had been frightened into existence by him. He was currently organizing the main army to garrison Rahba Castle.

Massive supply convoys were slowly advancing along the river valley.

To deal with the Sassanids, perhaps there was no need to commit his full main force.

But Losa’s true target was clearly not the Sassan, whose main legions—apart from the Undead Army—had already lost more than half along with half their realm, but that Eastern "World Conqueror" who arguably had more claim to the title than Alexander himself.

He rode Eclipse, gazing far toward the Eastern horizon.

Golden Radiance gathered in his eyes; in just a moment, his

At this moment Losa still did not know that, in the Sassan court, even such a rare creature as a pro-escape faction had been frightened into existence by him. He was currently organizing the main army to garrison Rahba Castle.

Massive supply convoys were slowly advancing along the river valley.

To deal with the Sassanids, perhaps there was no need to commit his full main force.

But Losa’s true target was clearly not the Sassan, whose main legions—apart from the Undead Army—had already lost more than half along with half their realm, but that Eastern "World Conqueror" who arguably had more claim to the title than Alexander himself.

He rode Eclipse, gazing far toward the Eastern horizon.

Golden Radiance gathered in his eyes; in just a moment, his